This is my first fanfic, so constructive feedback would be greatly appreciated! It's a bit short, as I've been backpacking and traveling without a computer and have written this entirely on my phone during the downtimes.
Warnings: Character death, AU, femmeslash.
Disclaimer: I do not have any ownership of the Harry Potter universe, which is the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling.
Write the Names
Write the names of those who are gone.
Ginny's quill scratched into the parchment, black ink bleeding through the scroll. The war is over, says the ministry. We've won. Now, write the names of the people who are gone forever. Write a letter to their families. Tell them we've won, tell them their children are dead.
Write the names: Ron Weasley.
Hermione stood in Ginny's doorway, silent, tears streaming from red-rimmed, sleepless eyes. She didn't move for ages. Neither of them did.
"I know. Do you want to come in, Hermione?"
"It's useless, Gin. What are we fighting for if nobody makes it out alive? I'll never see him again."
They fell apart together that night. Silent, sobbing, clutching each other for hours. Back then, they were both so afraid of the idea of gone forever. Ron was dead, and they were afraid of their own despair.
Sometime after two, Ginny looked at Hermione. Her eyes were closed, face covered in unruly hair matted by tears. She had bitten her lip so hard that it bled.
Ginny could barely write anymore. She winced as she sealed a letter addressed to Lavender Brown's family. She was hardly the right woman for the job of turning the destruction of everything around her into pithy condolences.
Hermione stepped out into the living room, wand in hand, and moved to retrieve her coat from beside the door. She was leaving again. For what felt like the thousandth time, Ginny moved to stop her.
"I'm going out, Ginny. I have to. I've found a lead on some suspected Death Eaters who have been hiding up north. The ministry will want them arrested-I'd rather see them dead."
Write the names: Harry Potter.
Harry was killed a few months after Ron. It was Ginny who visited Hermione that time, Ginny who knocked on her door and collapsed onto her couch. But Hermione was not there to share in Ginny's grief-she was formulating a plan.
"I'm going out to find them, Ginny. It's irrational, staying here and feeling hopeless. This war will only end if we finish it."
Ginny desperately searched the contours of Hermione's voice for any sign of emotion. She didn't find it.
The war is over, says Hermione. We've won. We must continue to fight.
Ginny's hands entwined with Hermione's as she brought her slender fingers up to her lips. "Don't go, 'Mione. Not tonight. I hardly see you anymore. Why are we still fighting if we've won?"
Hermione looked away from Ginny, gazing restlessly at the door. This was Hermione, who saw the world collapse around her. Whose eyes used to shine like amber when she and Ginny would sneak off to share a kiss together, deep in Hogwarts' maze of corridors.
This was Hermione, who once whispered "I think I love you, Ginny" that night under the stars, face visibly red, even in the darkness. Who now glanced back at Ginny, pursed her lips and whispered, "The only way to make sure it never happens again is to destroy everyone who is responsible."
This was Hermione, who had cast the killing curse more times than Ginny could think about, because the war had made her forget what justice looked like. This was Hermione, who let go of Ginny's hand and once again left wordlessly to fight a battle that was already over, because the war had made her forget what love looked like.
This was Hermione, who was the last surviving member of the Golden Trio, the brightest witch of her age, gone. The door slammed shut behind her. Ginny looked at the stack of unfinished ministry letters waiting for her.
Write the names of those who are gone: Hermione Granger.